


But It Was Better This Way

by StarXrossed



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarXrossed/pseuds/StarXrossed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was no doubt in his mind that Ishimaru didn't understand the art of romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But It Was Better This Way

**Author's Note:**

> Vague spoilers for the game, but nothing too serious.

He knew about human reproduction, sure—he had taken sex ed and had passed with flying colors.  He knew the anatomy, the process, anything like that.  He refused to watch porn—he considered it vulgar and unnecessary, an unrealistic representation of something intimate—but he figured he knew the basics, enough to get by.  
  
What confounded him was the more emotional side of things, the prelude to the down and dirty.  He considered himself a gentlemen, played by the rules, was courteous and polite, but still he couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something.  He hadn’t had a lot of experience himself—none, actually—and what he knew, he had gleaned from books and movies.  Even that was limited, though; he invested most of his spare time in studying, leaving little left for the pursuit of over endeavors, like learning how to “hit on someone” (was that what they were calling it?  He wasn’t quite sure.)  
  
Still, that was not to say that Ishimaru didn’t have potential romantic interests.  Oh, no, far from it.  He was only human, after all; even a super high school level hall monitor couldn’t surpresses those urges.  He snuck hurried glances during classes, blushing guiltily when he did; he tried to start conversations with them, but he always floundered hopelessly, reeling over his words.  They laughed, smiled, rolled their eyes at him.  Was that success?  He didn’t think so.  Aoi chuckled at his jokes, smiled, called him a good friend.  Celestia smiled, peered at him through long black lashes, gave him compliments that were vaguely backhanded (he assumed it was unintentional, though, she was far too much of a proper lady to actually _mean_  to be rude.)  He could see faint upward quirks of her lips when he spoke to Mukuro, but little more.    
  
And then there was Mondo.  Mondo was so  _different_  than any of Ishimaru’s other romantic pursuits.  The ladies were sweet, intelligent, polite, law-abiding citizens.  Mondo was none of those; in fact, he was the exact _opposite_.  He was brash and brusque, short-tempered and rough.  He was stubborn, rude, refused to follow the rules; he and Ishimaru butted heads constantly, verbally and physically, on a daily basis.  Ishimaru didn’t understand why he liked Mondo.  He didn’t, he told himself over and over, he didn’t, he  _didn’t_ , he was rude and vulgar and there was no reason for Ishimaru’s pulse to speed up whenever he yelled at the boy, for his stomach to clench and float up into his chest when he dodged Mondo’s right hook.  It was strange and unnatural and Ishimaru didn’t like it, not one bit, not even a miniscule amount.    
  
It would figure that Mondo would be the one Ishimaru would blurt his feelings to.  
  
Mondo had him pinned to a wall—Ishimaru had berated him once again for showing up incredibly late for class, and he had hit his limit, wheeling on the boy. Punches and words were exchanged, but Mondo had gained the upperhand.  His breathing ragged, his eyes blazing, and bruises forming where Mondo had hit him, Ishi couldn’t keep the words from spilling out.  
  
” _Why do I even have a crush on someone like you?!_ ”  
  
The words hung heavy in the air, and neither boy spoke, afraid they might set off some verbal landmine.  Ishimaru stiffened, eyes wide and darting back and forth.  Shit.   _Shit_.  That was  _his_  secret, his alone.  No one was supposed to know,  _especially_  not Mondo.  But too late—the words had spilled out, lingering in the air, wrapping around his throat, threatening to suffocate him.  They were there for all to see—there was no way to take them back, stuff them deep down where no one could find them.  He wanted to bolt, wanted to run away and pretend this hadn’t happened, but no, Mondo still had his pressed against the wall, his face clouded over, mouth agape in surprise and confusion.   
  
Ishimaru managed a strangled “I’m sorry” before the tears came on.  Fuck, he should have expected the waterworks, really.    
  
“You.  Like me.”  Mondo’s voice was hesitant, guarded.  Ishimaru couldn’t meet his gaze; he could only manage a weak nod.  Shit, he knew he looked pathetic, he  _knew_  it.  He was stupid, so stupid, how could he have let those words slip?  His biggest secret, the only one he held onto with a vice-like grip?  
  
He didn’t expect Mondo to lean forward and press his forehead to his own.  The taller boy sighed gently, his eyes closed.  ”Goddamn it, you moron.”  Ishimaru blinked in confusion; this wasn’t exactly the response he was expecting.  
  
He didn’t consider himself a romantic person.  He didn’t really understand how romance worked.  He most  _certainly_  didn’t think he was forward enough to make the first move on his first kiss.  But sometimes he surprised himself.  It was brief, chaste, but everything he needed.    
  
Mondo jumped back, startled, letting his grip on Ishimaru slip in the process.  The boy slumped to the ground, eyes wide in horror.  Oh, shit, he’d just kissed Mondo.  Shit.   _Shit_.  
  
“What the fuck,” Mondo snapped, his cheeks pluming red.  ”You fucking prick, I should beat your ass into the ground right  _now_.”  
  
“I’m sorry!” Ishimaru stammered, feeling his own cheeks grow warm.  ”I-i am, honestly!  It was improper and inappropriate and wrong and you’re a man and I am also a man and I apologize for my indecent behavior—”  
  
“Shut up and get up,” Mondo muttered, holding out a hand to Ishi.  ”We’re fuckin’ friends.  We can get past this.”  
  
Ishi stared dumfounded at Mondo’s hand, before gently taking it and using the other man to help himself up.  He wasn’t good at romance.  He was okay with that.  They were better as friends.  It was better this way.


End file.
